


Take a Ride with Me

by dramady, jeck



Category: American Idol RPF, Keith Urban (Musician), Kris Allen (Musician), Kris Allen - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Glass houses are fine, just don't throw stones. <i>OR</i>  What happens on the road stays on the road.</p><p><b>Authors' Notes:</b> We ship it. See additional notes at the bottom of the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Ride with Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:**This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

_Six months in the future_

The sound had barely faded from the speakers before Keith was squeezing Kris's shoulder, arm around his neck in a hug. "Sounds good," he grinned, all white teeth. "Sounds damned good." The song they'd written together on the road, recorded in a night.

Both of his arms wrapped around Kris and the hug was tight and real, lasting maybe a two-count too long before they both pulled back. Keith squeezed Kris's shoulder and then let him go. "That's a keeper, then."

~~

April 23, 2010 (Las Vegas)

"Kris!" Keith grinned wide, his guitar spun back behind him as he came over, pulling Kris into a hug, thumping him on the back. "Good to see you, man." He clapped Kris on the shoulder and stood back. They were on the stage together, empty but for the techs working and Keith's band. "Did you get a chance to listen to the song?"

That accent always sounded fantastic. Kris's was own guitar was strapped to his back, pulling from the hug with a wide smile "I did, man. I love that song."

As warm as Keith had been to him even from way back in the finale to the phone calls asking Kris to join him on tour, he still found himself in disbelief. Keith Urban, big country singing superstar asked him to open a show. It blew his mind.

"A'right man. Just tell me what to do an' I'll do it." Kris pulled the guitar to his chest, eyes on Keith, already idly strumming, watching as Keith grinned at the suggestion.

They played for a while, Keith calling out the chord changes, divvying up the lyrics, running it through a few times, before Kris and his band needed to load-in and sound check as well, but Keith caught Kris by the shoulder as they passed. "Have dinner before the show?" he offered, hand lingering.

"Uh, sure, man." Kris replied, a little surprised. He didn't at all expect a dinner invitation and maybe that showed on his face. "Where and what time?" He asked next, wondering suddenly if this was some band ritual or something? Kris also wished that he could relax a bit more. Keith _was_ a big star, it was kind of intimidating.

"We'll get mobbed if we go to a restaurant. Just come by my room, eh?" And Keith gave the number, patting Kris's shoulder before he walked away. "I'll be there when you're done!" he added, then he was gone and Steve and the guys were loading in the band's stuff.

Kris's sound check went with a few hitches. They were all still trying to get their act together as one cohesive group and things gelling took a while. When they were finally done Kris took off for the hotel elevators, rolling on his heels as the door opened to the right floor and he sought out Keith's room. He rapped at the door and felt that surge of apprehension again. Keith Urban. He kept saying the man's name in his head as he shook it in disbelief because he chose Kris. _Chose him_ out of the many, many other artists who could front him. Wow.

He was met with an easy smile and a beckoning gesture. "C'mon in," Keith said. His hair was still damp at the edges from the shower he must have been taking before Kris got there, clad in jeans and a t-shirt, and he led the way toward the two couches that were in the sitting area of his suite. "Got everything ready for tonight?" He asked, slouching in the corner of one of the sofas, a bare foot resting on the edge of the coffee table. His guitar was leaning there as well.

With a deeply inhaled breath, Kris walked in and sat down opposite Keith. The easy smile made him relax, as did the man's whole demeanor; open and friendly. It was hard not to like him.

"Yeah. This place is great." Kris leaned back on the sofa and turned just enough to face Keith. "I'm a little nervous playin' your crowd, though." Understatement. Kris was downright _scared_.

"Ah, don't be. They'll love you." Keith grinned then busied them both ordering food. It would take half an hour to get there and Keith settled back into the couch. "How're things goin', though, overall? Things good? You seem to be doin' all right."

The rhythm of Keith's words were so odd, so different, that it pulled a smile from Kris. He liked the way those words rolled off Keith's tongue, his accent making a tingle ripple under Kris's skin. "It's good, man. Can't complain. This is all more than what I expected." He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, looking up at Keith and how his long damp hair had a droplet just about to drip down to the already wet spot on the shoulder of his shirt. "A lot more. Takes a lot to get used to."

Leaning forward to mimic Kris's posture, Keith nodded, his hands clasp in front of him. "It's a lot to take in, but I have to say, man, you seem to be doing better than I did." And he chuckled, his head down for a minute before he raised it again, shrugging a little, letting his history with addiction go unspoken. "You're surrounded by good people. Makes a big difference, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. I got lucky." That little droplet missed Keith's shoulder completely. Kris's eyes were glued to it, watching it dampen a line down the front of Keith's shirt that spanned tightly across his chest. A crooked smile suddenly peeked. Keith must be cold. "Uhm ..." He was suddenly at a loss what to say, distracted as he was, it became hard to think. "How do you get used to it? The attention? I still feel like Kris. From Conway, Arkansas," he shrugged.

"You are still Kris from Conway. Just like I'm Keith from Whangarei and Australia and Nashville, I guess. Nothing that happens can change that if we don't let it." Keith smiled, reaching over to squeeze Kris's knee before settling back, one leg crossed over the other. "It's easy to let it get out of hand." He spoke from experience, of course. "How's Katy taking to it all?"

"We tried to do the LA, thing." Kris scoffed softly and shook his head, putting his hand on the knee Keith just squeezed because it felt like the touch was still there. "She got lonely; I was never home. I missed home so we're movin' back to Arkansas." He shrugged. "Guess ya can't take the South out of the boy ..." He cast a sidelong glance and smiled lopsidedly.

"And you can't take the boy out of the South," Keith finished, grinning outright. "Can't take the Aussie out of either me or Nic. You gonna record in Arkansas? Or ... you're not that far from Nashville, if you want to do that. No saying you have to be in LA to do that."

"Nashville, huh?" Kris had never considered that before that he sat further on the edge of the seat and leaned closer toward Keith. "Maybe the next album. I've been workin' on a few songs already." He cocked his head and stared. "Don't know anyone but Danny in Nashville. You gonna take me in? Make me Kris from Arkansas and Nashville?"

"Door's always open for you, man." Keith's smile was warm for him as he rose to get two bottles of water from the mini-fridge, bringing one over and holding it out to Kris. "My house is your house." And maybe, just maybe, his fingers lingered on the bottle for a moment, brushing Kris's before letting go.

~~

July 28, 2010 (Paso Robles)

"Good to see you, man!" Keith grabbed Kris into a half-staggering, half-walking hug. "Been a while!" His hand rested on the back of Kris's neck as he smiled. "You're looking good, good. Been keeping out of trouble?" They were in the middle of the backstage area of the festival, but for how singly Keith's focus was on Kris, they might as well have been alone.

Weird how Kris felt a heat climb up his neck to his cheeks from where Keith touched him. Kris attributed it to being outdoors and the California weather. He turned his head and grinned, clapping Keith on the back, too. "This is gonna be fun," he said with much enthusiasm. "My tour's doin' great. We're havin' fun. How're you?" He didn't move, but kept his hand on the man's strong shoulder.

"Good, good. Tour's good, recording's going good. Glad you're back." Keith clapped Kris on the back again before finally letting go and stepping back. "Feel like singin' with me again?" he asked, smiling. "Had so much fun last time, I'd love to do it again."

"Seriously?!" Kris was honestly surprised. "I mean, I'd love to. I-I ... yeah, man. Yeah. Sure." His grin would give away just how honored and excited he was about the prospect. Keith Urban asking him to duet again. Maybe he didn't screw up the first time that badly. "Should we go over it a few times later? So I don't mess up?"

"Sure. Come on by the bus after your sound check, huh?" Keith ruffled through Kris's hair and started for the edge of the stage. "Bring your guitar!" He gave a laughing waggle of his fingers over his shoulders and disappeared.

Kris's face was scrunched up, eyes following after Keith, watching him bounce out to the stage while he ran his hand through his hair. It ended up even messier than after Keith ruffled it up.

After sound check Kris went in search of Keith's bus. After being directed to it, he knocked on the door, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, his guitar strapped upside down on his back. There was that flutter in his stomach again, which seemed to kind of appear each time he sought the singer out. Kris had, since the first time, related that to intimidation, maybe admiration for Keith. He waited, wondering if someone was there to open the door.

The door swung out and Brian Nutter was grinning down at him. "Hey, good to see you," he said, stepping down and past Kris with a friendly slap to the shoulder. "He's inside. See you later, man."

"Kris!" They heard from within. "C'mon in already!"

"See you later, man." Kris waved and the he held the neck of his guitar and Kris first peeked inside, seeing nothing so he climbed up the steps. "'lo?" He heard Keith but couldn't see where he was. He went deeper into the bus, looking around. "Keith?"

"Back here!" Keith called, clearly from the room in the back of the bus past the bunks and the bathroom. There Keith was, sprawled on one of the two sofas in the room, which faced each other, strumming idly on his guitar. His face lit up with a smile when Kris appeared. "There he is, the man of the hour," he said, gesturing for Kris to sit across from him as he sat up straight. Almost immediately, he started strumming the opening chords of "Boys of Summer," watching Kris's face.

"Shoot!" Kris rushed to sit down and his ass hadn't even hit the seat and already he started to strum along. Funny how the chords to that song he seemed to pull from memory so easily. He parted his legs and settled the guitar more comfortably on his lap. "Very funny." He wrinkled his nose and kind of playfully scowled at Keith before smiling. He was quick to get into it, not needing to look at his fingers on the frets but Kris chose to look at Keith's face instead, matching the intensity of those eyes. "You're singin' first. Age before beauty, man," Kris teased.

"Nice! Young 'uns takin' it out on the old folks, huh?" But Keith was grinning as he played.

"Nobody on the road,  
nobody on the beach.  
I feel it in the air,  
the summers out of reach

Empty lake, empty streets,  
the sun goes down alone.  
I'm driving by your house  
though i know that you not home...

And I can see you  
your brown skin shining in the sun  
you got your hair combed back  
sunglasses on baby... "

It was funny how the song seemed to change a little when they were singing it right to each other.

Keith dragged the chord out a little bit, then smiled as Kris came in at the chorus.

"and I can tell you  
my love for you will still be strong  
after the boy of summer have gone."

In the small, enclosed space, their voices were richer, raw and pure and, Kris thought, they blended together nicely. He was smiling as they sang together, bopping his head, staring back at Keith when the man sang the next verse.

"Out on the road today  
I saw a dead head sticker on a Cadillac  
a voice inside my head said don't look back  
you can never look back

I thought I knew what love was  
what did I know  
those days are gone for ever  
I should just let them go and..."

Kris's fingers didn't have to do much. The chord changes were pretty simple that he could do it with his eyes closed. So, he did, for the next two lines, blinking slowly to meet Keith's eyes on him. Just as Kris reached the end of his part, his feet turned in, knee rising, body curling a little around his guitar as he belted that last line out.

"I can see you  
your brown skin shining in the sun  
you know you're walking real slow  
smiling at everyone....

I can tell you  
my love for you will still be strong  
after the boys of summer have gone.

I never will forget those nights  
I wonder if it was a dream  
remember how you drove me crazy?  
remember how I made you scream?

now I don't understand what happened to our love  
now baby gonna get you back  
gonna show you what i'm made of...

I can see you  
your brown skin shining in the sun  
you got your top pulled down,  
radio on baby

and I can tell you  
my love for you will still be strong  
after the boys of summer have gone .... "

When the last notes died away, Keith leaned forward over his guitar. The room was close enough that their feet, his bare, Kris's in his Toms, were touching and Keith was smiling. "Nothing to worry about there, I don't think. Unless my old age means I might forget the words. You better be ready to come in and save me, boy," he laughed. "You're ... you're somethin' else, you know that? Watching you sing, how passionate you are about it. It's good. Real good."

Keith was so close that Kris could feel his breath ghosting agains this cheek that slowly flushed. "Uh, thanks. I love what I'm doin'. I love it all." He swallowed, hard, eyes caught in Keith's gaze. "Especially playin' and watching you. Learning y'know?" Kris smirked then. "And I'mma save you if you forget. Least I could do for you."

"Got a good heart, too." Keith's grin softened, turning into something else; he didn't move away, bringing his fingers, calloused like Kris's were from guitar strings, to ghost along Kris's jaw before his hand fell back to his knee. "Sorry about that. Probably shouldn't have done that," he said, corner of his mouth quirking.

Well, too late to be sorry because Kris's eyes blinked slowly and he leaned into the touch. He was a little startled when Keith pulled back that he stared for a good few beats before he managed to shrug a shoulder slow and easy. "It's a'right, man." He smiled. It wasn't like he squirmed away from anyone touching him. "You can do anything you want. You're Keith Urban. You've got awards and Grammys and stuff." Kris smirked. It was true.

"Now don't be sayin' that. That doesn't make me anything but a guy who got lucky." His face somber, Keith looked at Kris. "That doesn't mean I can take advantage. Don't want to be one of those guys who does that." He leaned back, putting his guitar beside him on the sofa. "How's Katy?"

Well. That put Kris in his place, huh? He ducked his head feeling a lot embarrassed. Fingers began to tune his guitar only to find something to do with his now idle hands. "She's a'right and used to the separation now. She came to a few of my shows. We kinda do things that way." He peered up from under his lashes, still a bit wary. "Is that how you do it? It, uhm, kinda gets ... lonely ... y'know. On the road ...?"

"Yeah, it does." There was a smile on Keith's face, but it was a small one, an understanding one. "Nic's with the kids a continent or states away. Or she's makin' movies and .... " He shrugged slowly, blue eyes on Kris's face again. "You two talk about it?" Being on the road, he meant, clearly. How to deal with the loneliness.

Kris rubbed the back of his neck and then made a move to remove his guitar from across his shoulder, placing it beside him, leaning on the sofa. He could feel Keith's intense, meaningful gaze almost as if it was a passing draft of hot air blowing against his cheeks. "We have, yeah. But it's not like I can pick a person out of the crowd to take care of ... stuff." There were hand gestures in the air that he vaguely made to point to himself.

"That's a bad road to go, yeah." Keith's head was back against the sofa and he looked at the ceiling. "Camera phones and stuff like that. Don't need to be broadcasting it all over the place." Then he turned his gaze back to Kris. "Be nice if it was someone who understood what you were doing, why ... understood what it was."

"And can keep a secret." Kris shrugged. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe the whole 'you have a good heart' statement from Keith was now thrown out the proverbial window. "I dunno if I can do it, man. I love my wife but sometimes ..." He sighed deeply. "I shouldn't say that ..."

"What," Keith told him, kicking his shin with a foot. "That you love your wife, or that you're human. I'm never one to judge you, Kris. My glass house'll come crashing down faster than you can say 'how do y'do.' Besides. It's not like Nic 'n I haven't had the same conversation. And I haven't felt exactly what you're feeling."

"Uhm. We kind of didn't really talk about it. She'd hinted. She loves me, y'know? I just sorta didn't wanna hear it cos it just didn't seem ... right?" Kris met Keith's eyes and he leaned even more to sit barely at the edge of the sofa. "I guess I'm just startin' to get my glass house built." This he whispered like it was a secret he'd never before shared.

Keith leaned forward too. "Everybody's got a glass house. Some of them just forget and they toss stones about." Reaching his hand out, he held it palm up. "Helps, too, to know what you want." And he met Kris's gaze.

Kris didn't let his own gaze waver as he met Keith's head on, nodding almost imperceptibly. He slipped his hand in Keith's slowly, fingers curling slowly into the man's roughened hand. "I'm kinda more a go with the flow kinda guy," Kris admitted. "That's still knowing what you want, right? Only I wouldn't know it til I get there."

"Not a bad way to live life, long as you know to duck for branches and walls, stuff like that." Keith's hand closed around Kris's, warm and dry. "We don't see each other much, you and I," he added quietly. "But ... I wouldn't mind spending time with you."

"Aren't we already?" Kris grinned and he held on to Keith's hand and tugged a bit. He had to admit he liked the way Keith's hand closed around his. "But if you want more ...? There's after the show." It wasn't as if Kris didn't know what he was implying in saying that, but he wasn't sure what Keith was asking either. A safe question deserved a safe answer even if it felt like they knew _exactly_ what the other meant.

Not smiling back, Keith let himself be tugged until he was nearly sitting on the edge of his sofa, their knees touching. "I'm not one to take advantage, Kris. There're two of us here. Offer's there, if you want it. We have a few days off. We'll be here tomorrow, then I'll be getting back to the studio."

It was a loud thumping that sounded like a drum that pounded in Kris's chest when he realized that what he assumed was confirmed. "We're off the next couple days," he said, "I got nowhere else to be. I wouldn't mind hangin' out." And if his words didn't make that clear enough, Kris then said, "I'm takin' it."

"Alright." There was a small, thoughtful smile on Keith's face as he leaned in, covering most of the distance that was still between them. "Going with the flow, eh?" His eyes flickered between Kris's mouth and his eyes.

"Yeah ..." And then there were no more words when Kris leaned in to meet Keith's lips and felt the light press and then the warmth of breath. It was chaste and hesitant, his eyes closed, their hands still joined and then Kris felt his lips slowly part and offer Keith more.

It wasn't grab-the-wall-and-scream sex. There wasn't anything frantic about it, which later, when he thought about it, made sense. It was easy with a lot of talking, smiles and even laughter. It was about learning where to touch and how and the satisfaction of taking care of an itch that needed scratching. After, a sheet thrown over them both, resting his cheek on his hand, Keith was on his side, smiling down at Kris before he leaned in for another kiss. He liked kissing, clearly, and he was good at it.

It surprised Kris that with the intimacy came the words. It became a lot easier to talk freely, to share, to ask. Kris didn't shy away from telling Keith what he wanted, what felt good, how the man made him feel. Kris kissed him back with equal fervor although it was still languid and somewhat lazy if tender and sweet. He liked the way Keith kissed. He _knew_ what to do with his lips (and that mouth which Kris got to know _really intimately_). He whimpered softly, arching just slightly to feel more of Keith's warm against his own skin.

That was it, wasn't it? Warmth, intimacy, touch. Basic needs usually left unfulfilled but here, now, it had not only taken care of that carnal desire, it had forged a bond between them as well.

Even before their lips parted, Kris was already smiling back. "Man, you're hot." He chuckled softly, licking his lips, still with that sharpness of Keith's taste on his lips and on his tongue.

"You're good looking too," Keith came back with, smiling. "You're not taller than me," he added with a soft laugh. "Makes me feel better." But, he looked up at the clock on the wall with a sigh. "Best get ready to perform, I suppose, eh? But I'll see you after...?"

"I uhm," Kris threw the covers back and he slid his feet over the side of the bed, looking over his shoulder at Keith who was still naked and looked good and yeah, he was _really_ hot. Geez! "Lizzie says I'm gettin' a room somewhere. Do you wanna ...?" His shoulder rose past his ear in a very slow and bashful shrug.

"Sounds good," Keith told him, unabashedly running his eyes over Kris's body. "Just let me know where to be. Or better, have Lizzie tell Mel and that way, I'll have a way to get there." He sat up too, reaching out to touch. "All good, Kris?"

His breath hitched softly, body moving to the touch and it made him duck his head to try and hide the smile. Kris looked up at Keith and took the man's hand, feeling rough and hardened skin very much like his own. He liked feeling that. Angles and stubble, roughness and hard edges, and the hair. Kris liked the hair. "I'll tell Lizzie to tell Mel." He squeezed then let Keith's hand go. "It's all good ... yeah. All good."

And right before he left Kris found himself with an arm around him pulling him close, lips closed around his in a kiss more intimate than he'd had in a long while. When it came showtime he was more energetic than ever and when it was time to sing with Keith, Kris had to admit he was a lot more relaxed than he ever would have been had earlier that day didn't happen.

Yeah. Things were definitely all good.

~~

August 13,2010 (Des Moines, Iowa)

Instead of being met with a wave, Kris was met with a warm hug. "Good to see you," Keith said in Kris's ear. "I get you for a couple days this time?" And he leaned back with a smile. "How are you, man? Good?"

Kris lingered in those arms a little longer than he should have. Still wrapped around Keith, he looked up and smiled. "A couple days, yeah," he whispered back, slightly trembling and still feeling the warmth of the breath that blew against his cheek. His eyes, they couldn't lie though, that when he looked up it said that he was gladly anticipating spending that time with Keith.

"I'm awesome. Things are awesome." Kris finally stepped back and looked him over with an appreciative eye and boy, did Keith look very good. "How're you? You got family comin' here to see you?" Just checking.

"They're not comin' to Iowa and Indiana, no," Keith laughed. Nicole Kidman would not fit in in Midwest America. "Family good? Tour good?" He still had his hand in the small of Kris's back which felt like it was going to burn a hole in Kris's plain white t-shirt.

Kris wasn't complaining.

"It's all good, man. Real good. Movin' back to Arkansas was the best decision we made." He smiled up and put his arm back against Keith's back and leaned against him with an ease and comfort borne from intimacy. Kris's skin itched to feel that warmth directly and not just a hint from under the thin material of Keith's shirt. Amazing how the body didn't easily forget. "Are we singing the same song tonight?"

"Unless there was somethin' else you wanted to try?" They weren't moving, letting people go around them. "You're welcome to crash in my bus with me to Indiana if you want, too." Since, as Kris knew, Keith had more room.

"What? And miss my bunk on the floor and my nightly massage?" Kris pulled back just enough to better see Keith's face and then his nose scrunched up. "Gotta do better than that, man." He teased, chuckling with Kris's telltale smirk quirking his lips.

"What, I have to talk you into that? Did I lose my touch?" Keith laughed. "I'll leave it up to you," and he clapped him on the back. "I'll be on the bus after your soundcheck if you feel like comin' by." And he gave Cale a wave and headed off the stage.

Keith shouldn't even ask because Kris was going to be there both after sound check and for the trip to Indiana. Somehow he could tell that Keith knew that. He watched until the man disappeared before he caught Cale's gaze. "What?!" Kris shrugged and turned away, smiling secretly as he headed to the stage.

His sound check didn't last that long. Kris's team managed to set up and get them ready in record time. He had a towel around his neck, his t-shirt damp with sweat and now he was knocking on Keith's bus door.

Just as before, Brian let Kris in and dismissed himself and just as before, Keith was in back, a guitar over his knees, but he was hunched over it, playing and he looked over, smiling, as he kept playing. He watched Kris sit and played the melody line he'd been working with, head cocked in obvious question. Did that it work? It was dirty, fingers hard down on the strings as he strummed.

"Play that again," he said, tossing the towel on the empty sofa and sitting down next to Keith instead of across from him. "That's kinda catchy, man." Kris ran his fingers through his sweat damp hair; it was sweltering hot here in Iowa.

Keith played it again, gesturing to Kris the wall where the thermostat was if he wanted to turn it down. "Got a new song running around in my head, can't quite get it out. You know how that is?"

"Don't I know it." Kris got up and did just that, turn down the temperature to cool the room even more. He smiled gratefully at Keith as he sat back down, nodding his head in agreement. "If you, y'know, want me to leave you to that, it's a'right, man. I can see you later." Although he didn't rise from his seat, Kris did point toward the door. "Like I said, I know how it goes."

"See what it does for you, Kris. Feel it," Keith urged. "What does it feel like to you?" And he played again. It could be, his face said, their song.

Kris drew his brows together and listened intently. The rhythm was steady, thrumming, like a hot summer's night with the bus rumbling along a deserted highway. "I don't have my guitar," was his answer, fingers flexing on his side, itching to play, to build on the chords Keith was already playing.

"Front room," Keith said. There were guitars in their cases stored between the couch and the driver's seat. "Help yourself." And he played on, variations on the theme as he watched Kris move.

It didn't take long for Kris to grab a guitar and sit next to Keith, back leaning against the couch arm, his leg bent at the knee resting on the seat. He listened and toyed with the melody, switching a chord and building on what Keith played. He looked over at Keith with a shoulder shrug. "Yes? No?"

"Yeah!" Keith said, watching Kris's eyes as he followed his lead. "That's right. That's good." He bobbed with it, still bent over his guitar. "Keep going!"

And they kept going, right up until Lizzie finally found Kris, Mel in tow, both glaring. Kris looked up through his lashes at Lizzie, feeling like he was a boy who got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. "Uh. Sorry. Yeah, yeah. I'mma be right out," and he watched the two leave in a huff.

Kris turned to Keith with a quirked smile. "Busted." He laughed. "Guess it's almost showtime. We can, I mean I can come back ... later. Take you up on that, um, invitation?" To stay in Keith's bus on the way to Indiana, he meant.

Checking to make sure they were alone, Keith leaned forward, guitar still clutched to his chest, wrapping a hand around Kris's neck to kiss him. That was Keith's answer. "And we'll get this song goin'," he said, nodding. "See you on stage, Kris." And he smiled, warm and private.

Smiling back, Kris leaned his forehead on Keith's and felt the brush of his long hair against Kris's cheek. He closed his eyes briefly and breathed him in, feeling like he was being welcomed home again. "I'll see ya." Kris left the guitar by the towel he tossed on the sofa seat, casting one last lingering look, a promise in his eyes for Keith before he left the bus.

It would be a lot of those same quick looks that Kris gave Keith that night on stage as they sang "Boys of Summer." Kris was getting more and more into the song, pulling energy from how Keith played the guitar and bounced on stage. Each time they did this seemed more awesome than the last.

The crowd seemed to like it too. Keith seemed to like it. Everyone seemed to like it. When the bus took off, though, Keith was laughing at Kris. _Laughing_ at him as he sat there holding his stomach, looking pained. "Remind me again," he said, because clearly, he wasn't against giving someone a hard time. "How many of those puff things you ate?"

Kris scowled at Keith from where he was curled into a small ball at the corner of the sofa. His toes curled on the soft seat as he pulled his knees up higher on his chest.

"Only two, a'right. But I think it was the Krispy Kreme burger." Kris groaned again. "Or the fried cheese. Maybe the root beer float ...?"

"And you wonder why you feel like shite." Still laughing, Keith disappeared out the door for a moment, before returning with a glass of clear, bubbling water, grinning. "Seltzer, here. Drink it. It might calm your belly a bit, though you might want to pass on anything fried for a very long time." He sat next to Kris, rubbing his back.

Kris drank it in a few gulps, making a disgusted face right after, handing the glass back to Keith. "Thanks," he said, hand lingering on the glass, fingers brushing with Keith's. "Don't go mentioning fried anything right now, man." He groaned, then laughed softly. "Did I just ruin our night?" Kris asked softly, his brown eyes picking up the slivers of light from the low lamp in the room.

Keith shrugged, setting the glass aside. "We're spending time together. That's important." He ran his hand down Kris's arm to let it rest on his hip. "Don't need to be naked to enjoy each other's company." Though, clearly, it seemed, it didn't _hurt_.

A shiver ran up Kris's spine and his stomach fluttered that had nothing to do with all that fried everything that he ate. He tugged Keith over him with a chuckle and a small smirk.

"Oh, I dunno. I think I kinda like seeing you naked." Keith looked good in his birthday suit. Sue him. Kris was already tugging at Keith's shirt, fingers touching skin as he pushed them under the soft material.

"You're not gonna puke all that you just ate back on me, are you?" Keith asked, letting Kris do as he pleased. "I like you a lot, Kris, but I only clean that up for a few people." And he grinned again, his own fingers slipping up under Kris's shirt.

"You just know how to ruin the mood, don't ya?" Kris's breath hitched, though, soon as he felt Keith's rough fingers on his skin. He opened up a little bit more, unfurling his curled body from the couch and wrapping an arm tighter around Keith. ""m not gonna puke. Well, not on you, I hope." Kris grinned teasingly. "I just wanna _touch_," he whispered, slowly rucking Keith's shirt up his body.

Putting his arms over his head, Keith let his shirt be stripped off, then he leaned forward, easing Kris's away as well. From there, he could touch stubbly kisses along Kris's jaw before pausing right over his mouth, a grin appearing (again). "Dunno if I should kiss you though. Nothing you ate sounds the least bit appealing."

"I brushed my teeth!" Kris already doubted they could have sex _now_ (he had high hopes for later) and not being able to kiss would be a real bummer especially how amazing a kisser Keith was. Maybe he pouted just a little bit. "But if, y'know, you don't wanna ..." Kris licked around his lips, slowly, while he stared at Keith's.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a flirt? And a tease, too." But it was enough to get Keith to lean down and kiss Kris. That morphed into lying together, Keith's arm around Kris's shoulders, softly talking as the asphalt rolling under their tires.

But somewhere, maybe when they were crossing Illinois, all the lights out but for the occasional streetlamp being passed by that Keith smiled up at Kris who was leaned over him. "Feeling better?"

"Lots, yeah." Kris slid up Keith's body, touching, kissing, too. Unabashed even though they've only been this way a few times before. It was the other stuff that made Kris more and more comfortable with Keith. The talking, murmured, hushed, about music and melodies, life and rhythms. It was simple: Keith got him.

The rumbling under them as the bus drove through the dark and silent freeway only made this between them feel even more real. The desire was sharp, the touch more distinct, even the kisses felt poignant. Kris immersed himself in it, kissing Keith deeply, his body rocking over him slowly.

Having only been clad in boxers to begin with, it was easy to let those slip off and away, to have roughened fingertips touch skin, for Keith to let Kris take charge; Kris could tell in how Keith looked at him, how he spread his legs to let Kris settle between them. Keith might be the bigger star, but they were equals in bed, as well as anywhere else. Keith slid his hands down Kris's back, over his ass, pulling him closer. "Good."

"Mmm," Kris sighed, nodding as he settled slowly over Keith. "Yeah ... good," he breathed, leaning down to take Keith's lips in his. They moved fluidly, thick like honey and hot like lava. Like there was a song playing that only they knew, music that only they could follow. The sound of skin on skin, moans and whimpers, even a harsher groan all building into a melody. Their hands were laced together and even as Kris panted against Keith's lips, he whispered, "touch me," slipping their joined hands between their joined bodies.

Two hands wrapped around Kris's cock and stroked in time with how Kris was moving. Keith looked up at him through hooded eyelids. "You move like you do on stage," he said, something he'd observed before. "It'll make me think dirty thoughts watchin' you." He dug his heels into the bed, pushing up.

Kris laughed and it came out in breathy pants, inadvertently squeezing Keith's deep inside him as he moved even faster over his lithe but solid body. "m' gonna make you keep thinking those thoughts," he promised, pushing up a little higher, a hand on Keith's chest to keep Kris in balance as he rocked his hips. "Uhh, that feels ... good."

"Yeah." They found a rhythm that made sense, slow, but steady, the sounds they made changing as the temperature rose and when Keith's muscles tensed, he pulled Kris down and panted a kiss into his mouth, hips still moving steadily. "Okay," he whispered as he came, going still for a moment, then shuddering, his head falling back.

The way Keith pulsed deep inside him made Kris moan again, low and reverberating, muffled into their joined mouths. Kris kept moving over him slowly, clenching him deep, his hand still moving over his own erection, coaxing his orgasm out by squeezing and stroking fast and tight. When Kris came it was with a cry that was hidden by the sound of the hum of the engine and the rumble of the tires on concrete. Thick streams like ribbons were on his belly and Keith's chest, smeared between them when Kris finally collapsed over him, his slightly smaller frame perfectly cradled in Keith's arms. "Wow."

"Sexy man," Keith rumbled into his ear before he kissed Kris there. "Definitely gonna be thinking dirty thoughts about you tomorrow." He laughed but hugged Kris tighter to him. "Glad you're feelin' better, too. Cuz I sure like doin' that."

"Me, too." Kris agreed, sagging over Keith's chest feeling come and sweat slippery and wet between them. "I kinda like that a lot." His rough hand moved over Keith's chest then his arms just to touch. Kris liked to touch. He liked to kiss, too, which was why he tilted his face up to Keith and barely kissed the corner of his lips, tip of his tongue sliding over the seam. "Didn't think I'd like glass houses so much," he whispered.

"Like 'em without the stones," Keith answered, turning his head to kiss Kris again, so that Kris could feel the smile.

~~

August 14, 2010 (Indiana State Fair)

The bus rolled into the fairgrounds at 8 that morning, but Kris and Keith didn't stir until nearly 10. When he awoke, Keith leaned up to look out the window. "Another fairground. Must be Indiana," and he smiled, brushing his knuckles along Kris's jaw to wake him. "Up 'n at 'em, Allen."

With a low groan, Kris rolled to his stomach and buried himself deeper in the mattress, shaking his head. "Nu-uh." He was tired from a night of sleep and sex, off and on, through the journey here. From under the thin sheet he was still naked, smelling like come and Keith and sleep, mumbling something about the bed being warm and that Keith should come back in.

"You stuck?" Kris could feel fingers wiggling between himself and the mattress. "Don't have you tied down," Keith noted. "You just bein' lazybones, I guess, huh? Well, lazybones. Somebody's gonna come lookin' for you soon enough. I can point 'em in here?"

What came out sounded a lot like a whine if only it weren't muffled by the pillow Kris planted his face in. He turned his head enough to peek at Keith, hair every which way, his cheek still with sleep lines on them. "You said last night you wanna sing something different." He turned his body to his side, getting more tangled in the sheets. "Just tell 'em we're rehearsing? That'll buy me, what? An hour, maybe two?"

"Lazy bum." Getting to his feet, Keith shucked the covers away from Kris's body, leaving him naked as a jay. Of course, then Keith smacked him right on the ass, laughing the whole time. "Life's passin' you by!"

"A'right, a'right, I'm up." Kris rubbed his ass and glared over his shoulder at Keith before he slowly sat up and stretched, groaning with his arms over his head. "So we're in Indiana. 'm not eating anything fried."

"Think you said something last night about lettuce," Keith teased as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants. "Nothin' but lettuce, huh? No thanks." But he sat back down, running a hand down along Kris's side. "New song tonight. You know who's from Indiana, right?"

Kris thought about it some before his face broke in a smile. "Mellencamp." He bent down to grab his boxers and slipped them on, wiggling his hips, thinking idly that he'd love a shower, and a shower with Keith even better. "What Mellencamp song?" He searched the floor for his pants.

"Either 'Pink Houses' or 'Jack and Diane,' I figure," Keith said, stepping into Kris's space, arms easily around his waist. "Think we'll play it by ear. You got those songs? Or you can download 'em. We'll figure it out before the show?"

Kris liked the way Keith's hair brushed against his face when he leaned in like that. "I like 'Jack and Diane' and we got time to practice now--" It was kind of hard to keep his eyes off of Keith's face and his smile. He licked his lips kind of wishing he did tour with Keith. "It's, uh, our last show for a while. Then Maroon 5 will have me ..."

"They'll get you, eh? Guess I'll try to keep my jealousy to myself," Keith teased. "Them boys are younger 'n me. I need to do a few things right now, but we'll meet up later." Promise, his kiss said. The things most likely involved calling his family. But after the kiss, he let Kris go. "You tell the boys I said hi, a'right? And we'll meet up later? We'll do Jack and Diane, so get those chords down." A squeeze to Kris's ass and Keith was leading the way to the front of the bus.

All the way back to his own bus, Kris had this small smile on his face. Keith. Jealous? Maybe it was said in jest but then maybe it was real. And as much as Kris was saddened by the idea that this was their last gig together in a while, it wasn't the end. There was still the promise of September.

Later, on stage, Kris rocked his heart out. Singing as passionately as he was capable of, letting the music - and Keith's words - move him.

_... gonna be thinking dirty thoughts about you ..._

The way he wiggled his hips and bounced around on stage was probably the most energetic he had been in a long time. He should be tired, running on little sleep and lots of sex, but Kris _wanted_ Keith to see him - because he knew the other was watching - and he wanted to fill his mind with thoughts of their shared time together.

By the time Kris was done his plain white t-shirt was soaked, his hair dampened, skin shimmering with sweat in the fading sun. He walked backstage still with a bounce in his step, body still thrumming with adrenalin, a smile firmly etched on his lips. He passed by Keith's dressing room and knocked on the door, calling out, "we rehearsing?" Because they still haven't yet.

"Nope." Keith was grinning as he pulled one of his many snap-front shirts. "I gotta meet a few fans before we go on. You got those chords?" He came over, stopping a few feet short. But the smile on his face told Kris he had indeed been watching, though his eyes stayed firmly, publicly on Kris's face. "Hot out there, huh?"

Kris looked down at himself and shrugged, tugging the towel he tossed over his shoulder to wipe away more sweat still dripping thin, wet lines from his hairline.

"It is, yeah. Hot here, too." Kris leaned against the door jamb and watched Keith slowly close the snaps on his shirt, wishing, for one last time, that he could tug them open. "So we're roughin' it? No practice?" His grin slowly formed because Keith wanting to wing it was either very brave or very stupid. Or both. And that made him even more awesome than Kris already thought he was.

"We might have to," Keith answered with a corresponding grin; clearly he didn't mind winging it. "Good crowd out there? Hot crowd?" He took a step closer. "You were diggin' it, I could tell."

The smile was slow to spread over Kris's face as he took a few steps closer, too. "Y'know ... sometimes, the music just moves you ..." He said in a low, raspy voice, tilting his head up to look into Keith's eyes. "... and you just gotta go with the flow ..."

"Amen, brother, amen." Keith said, reaching over to squeeze Kris's shoulder. "So I guess I'll see you on stage. And I'll see you after. Y'all takin' off right after? I don't fly out til tomorrow mornin'."

Was it bad to look like he longed too much to be close and maybe get to kiss Keith again. The sounds coming from outside the dressing room door behind Kris was too stark a reminder that they were not alone. "There's talk of a little somethin' somethin' for later since we won't be seein' you guys 'til September. So, I'll see you later." He stepped back, feeling the echo of Keith's touch to his shoulder. "Break a leg out there," he added, already making a move to turn and walk out the door.

"See you after - !" Keith called after him.

But not long after, Kris was called onto the stage. Keith was talking. "Seeing as how we're, uh, in Indiana and one of the all-time musical heroes comes from a little town called Bloomington," he said, grinning. "We're going to do a song of his tonight because we love him so much. To help us with that tune, would you please welcome to the stage, KRIS ALLEN!"

As he saw Kris appear, Keith smiled, extending a hand for a high-five that led to a partial hug. "Okay!" Keith said, back as his mic as Bobby was getting Kris set up. "We've never played this song before which hopefully won't be apparent. You guys wanna sing?" He asked the crowd, who cheered in reply. He turned to Kris then, smiling. "How you doing, Kris? You all right?"

"Good, man. You look _hot_."

"You look pretty good too, thank you. I appreciate it." And Keith was grinning ear to ear, eyes only on Kris's face. A little inside joke was just shared with the world and he clearly found it amusing.

Kris starting to say something and he caught Keith's eyes that were bright with amusement that whatever punch line he had for that line he gave kind of fizzled in the heat of the man. "Yeah ..."

"That's not important now," Keith drawled, adjusting his mic with a grin. "Okay!" He shouted and laughed all at once, strumming. "Oh, God." And he started to play.

Keith couldn't seem to stop grinning, and neither could Kris. Going with the flow had its ups and downs.

And there were lots of mistakes. Well, mostly Kris and he couldn't help it. The way Keith kept putting him on the spot and pointing at him to sing parts of the song. But none was more distracting than the way Keith came up to him, both of them playing the guitar so close that if anyone looked any closer it they'd read the sexual way they did it; hips jutting out toward each other with their fingers flying on the strings. Talk about hot.

But at least the audience was more than willing to sing along. "You sang it so good!" Keith shouted as the song started to wrap up. Then when Kris swung his guitar around his back, Keith threw out an arm to give him another hug. "KRIS ALLEN!" He yelled again as he watched Kris walk off stage.

Later, Keith was still grinning as he drank from a sweating bottle of water in the communal dressing room. "You look hot tonight," he echoed, laughing. "Kris Allen has a devil streak in 'im!"

He had his own bottle of water in his hand and used it to point to Keith. "That's not what I meant ... well, it _was_ but it wasn't supposed to come out that way," he countered, knowing that wasn't going to fly. "It was ... I was trying to ... oh, nevermind!" Kris rolled his eyes.

Laughing, Keith came over, jostling Kris with his shoulder. "It was fun, wasn't it? Fun. That's what life's about, I think. Too short to be all serious all the time." He drained his bottle and tossed it in the recycling bin then came to stand in front of Kris. "Do I still look hot?" He asked, blue eyes shining.

Kris swallowed thickly, eyes fixed on Keith and he could feel the warmth spread on his skin and the smile lift the corners of his lips. "Yeah. You do." Kris reached out, then, fingers lightly brushing Keith's skin as he touched his cheek to brush back his still sweat-damp hair. He smiled then began to pull back. "Should we, uhm, go ...?" There was a little get together with both bands and crews. A little going away thing until they all see each other again in about a month.

Keith looked around at the clumps of people talking and smiling and he nodded. "We'll make our way out, yeah. I'll follow in a few minutes, all right?" And he reminded Kris of the code to his bus. He clapped Kris on the shoulder, then wandered toward Cale and Brian who were deep in conversation.

It was a great time, Kris had to admit. Even if he caught himself looking around for Keith, mingling and engaging in a few jokes, some singing, awesome conversation. He'd find himself with Keith now and again, exchanging looks and smiles and a few whispered words as well.

The night grew deeper and the crowd slowly trickled down to a handful of them with Cale standing by Kris's side, waiting.

Kris had his head ducked, a hand shoved deep in his pocket, a drink warming in his hand. He peered up at Keith, expression with meaning, eyes with intent. "Go ahead," he told Cale. "I gotta do something with," he pointed his drink at Keith. "We're workin' on a something." It wasn't a lie. They did have that song.

"That's right; I forgot we were gonna work on that," Keith said, arm coming around Kris's shoulder. "Let's head on to do that." He waved to everyone and turned, arm still around Kris's shoulder.

In the trailer, though, he immediately started pulling the shirt from Kris's body. "Cooler now?" He asked. "Need to turn down the aircon?" Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in, taking Kris's mouth with his, chest to chest.

The sigh came out with a rush and it sounded more like a needy whimper. Kris had his arms around Keith, hands fisted on his shirt and he was tugging that up, breaking the kiss to slide it over his head and answer, "still hot," Kris mumbled, casting the shirt somewhere on the floor and chasing after Keith's lips, tiptoeing to reach him. "I like hot." Nimble fingers were quick to work their way at Keith's belt, his pants quick to come next.

"I could tell," Keith answered and together they stripped off the rest of their clothes, laughing at the effort it took to get two pairs of tight jeans off. The bed isn't exactly soft, but it gave when they fell on it, and Keith ended up on top. He kneed Kris's legs apart and kissed him more deeply, tongue licking into his mouth.

"I like hot," Kris repeated, "I like this ... You." To show Keith that, Kris arched up so that they were pressed skin to skin, Kris's rough hands sliding down Keith's back before he tugged him down, push-pulling for more heat. There was an urgency in Kris's movement, a little desperate, maybe, in the way he kissed back, in the sounds he made. Kris wanted to touch, to explore, to taste and memorize.

"It's all right," Keith murmured, taking one of Kris's wrists, pinning it over his head. "Easy, buckin' bronco." But it was clear he was teasing, bending down again to kiss him, slower, like pulled taffy, or like a hot summer night. It fit.

But a few minutes later, he rolled to his back, pulling Kris over him, legs hooking around his hips. "Think you wanna...? Be gentle on ole me."

"Yeah," Kris nodded his head, shifting over Keith to get more comfortable, settling with their erections brushing against each other. He dipped down, then, licking his lips and still tasting Keith and the coke he was drinking earlier. That was made sharper when he kissed him again, tasting the sweet and the distinctly Keith taste he'd come to know. Kris rocked his hips slowly, a strong hand curling around both their erections, his movements leisurely, almost lazy.

The sounds they made even seemed to be on harmony, both exhaling when Kris squeezed. "Take the lead," Keith whispered, reaching over to the small nightstand, pulling the drawer open. Kris knew that's where he kept the stuff, but Keith pressed the lube into Kris's hand this time with a kissed smile. "I think I can take it."

Kris's eyes blew wide that he pushed up, a hand on Keith's chest and he looked at him, then the lube, then back at Keith. "Are you ...?" There was no sense asking, because it was right there in Keith's eyes, plain as the nose on Kris's face that it was what he wanted. So, Kris, he took the lead, uncapping the lube and smearing the cool gel on his fingers he parted Keith's legs, knees drawn up. Kris met Keith's eyes and nodded in understanding. "Okay," he leaned down and kissed him, fingers tracing circles around his entrance, "okay."

"Give you somethin' to remember me by," Keith said with a breathless smile, then he arched his back when Kris started to open him up, muscles in his arms and legs tensing. "Yeah," he whispered a second later. "Okay. Goin' with the flow," and he laughed.

It took a while, a few more laughs and a few more smiled instructions before Keith held Kris's ass, pulling him forward, urging him all the way in. "Yeah," he said, eyes slitted, heels digging into the back of Kris's legs. "That's right, now."

"Shoot! This is gonna kill me," Kris groaned while his toes dug on the mattress for leverage, for control, to push deeper, in increments, slow. _Slow_. He felt every inch of him sink in Keith's tightness, engulfed in heat, eyes hooded but watching his face as Kris took his body. It was when Kris was deep to the hilt, his hips pressed against the backs of Keith's thighs was when he slowly blinked his eyes closed and he moaned. "God! You feel good!"

The cords of Keith's neck stood out as Kris moved, his hands ghosting up and down Kris's back before sliding lower still, urging Kris all the way in, flush. He groaned, rolling himself up a little, his body working to welcome Kris in, then he smiled, the action as much evident in his voice as on his face.

Kris sank even deeper and it pulled a guttural moan roughly from his throat. He blinked his eyes open, smiling back at Keith, staying that way for a few rhythmic beats before he pulled back with a hiss of breath, sinking, thrusting with long, slow strokes. It felt amazing, the fluidity of the way they moved stretched the pleasure out, making it feel the best it possibly could. Kris could feel the it distinctly, like a slow burn rippling over his whole body, the heat slow to rise. "Oh, God...!"

Keith pulled Kris down, fingers around the back of his neck, for a kiss, taken between panted breaths. Then it was the creak of the bed frame that made the most noise as the rhythm gradually sped up. Hand between them, Keith jerked himself off as he got closer, only warning Kris he was coming with a hitch in his breath. The smell of sex increased as he spilled over both of them, his head still back, eyes still shut tight.

Seeing Keith in ecstasy while feeling that tight clench inside that squeezed Kris's length had him coming with a stifled cry, lips pinned tight between his teeth. Kris slid in deeper, his head down, eyes in thin slits as he pulsed, gasping, his orgasm hitting hard that his whole body shuddered, tensing before everything released. His orgasm felt like sweet surrender, giving in to the pleasure that Keith's body willingly gave, gasping for breath as he finally allowed himself to collapse, bonelessly lying over Keith's still heaving chest.

"I'll definitely be thinkin' of you tomorrow," Keith laughed softly. "That much is for certain." He held Kris's chin, though and angled it up so that they could kiss one more time. "I'm gonna miss you."

Kris kissed Keith again before answering in a whisper. "I'm gonna miss you, too ..." He nuzzled for a moment, eyes closed, nose buried in Keith's hair, smelling the scent distinctly his mixed with heat and sex. "... but I'll see you in September." The smile on Kris's face spoke volumes: This wasn't over.

~~

Four days after they'd both left Indiana, Kris got an email with a file attached: the song that they'd been fiddling with impromptu in Iowa and Indiana. _See what comes to you,_ the message said with Keith's name at the bottom. It was a simple track so far: acoustic guitar layered on itself with the melody line that Keith had come up with and the harmony line Kris had made up.

"Awesome." Kris smiled, playing the track again before grabbing his guitar and strumming. He closed his eyes while he played the memory of his time spent with Keith in his head.

Words and notes began to flow and he wrote them on his journal - the same book he kept that told about his innermost thoughts, everything he was feeling. This song - this belonged here.

It would be a couple days before he was able to respond, a few lines of lyrics and more chords now typed neatly on the screen. _Your turn, old man._ At the end of that, Kris added this: _:)_

They exchanged the song two more times, the song growing a little more each time.

~~

Sept. 3, 2010 (Allentown, PA)

Kris's bus rolled into the fairgrounds and parked next to Keith's. Keith wasn't in his bus, but they could hear the music coming from the pavilion; soundcheck. Keith was sitting in the front row, though, actually, calling back instructions to the sounddeck, strumming his guitar and singing snatches of songs. When he saw Kris, he smiled, waving him down to sit next to him. "It's KRIS ALLEN!"

"You're in my town, man." Kris made one of his 'I'm tough' faces, eyes narrowed as he approached, laughing when he got near. He met Keith with a hug that lingered before sitting down, slouched low. "How're you?" He twisted in the seat, knee pressed to Keith's, Kris's smile soft but meaningful.

"I am good, man. Good." Keith's voice, of course, bounced off the roof as did the laugh that followed. Then he swiveled the mic away, pulling his guitar off and setting it on the seat next to him. "How you 'been, man? You had a show last night, huh? Go well? I wanted to come, but was finishing up some recording." He slapped his hand down on Kris's knee, squeezing before letting go. "Good to see you, man. Real good."

"You should've come. I'd have given you prime seats." Kris was still grinning at Keith. He couldn't seem to stop smiling and he was staring now, too. "So, uh, three days ..." The smile was starting to slip into a smirk, Kris's eyes alight, happy. "I've been lookin' forward to today." Fingers itched to reach out, touch. Kris fisted his hands on his lap instead.

"Yeah? Why's that?" But it was clear Keith was teasing; he knew why, judging by the way his eyes moved along the lines of Kris's body. "I brought the song too. We can work on that. In our spare time." And he laughed again. "Lemme finish up my soundcheck and you can do yours and we'll hang out for a while before the show? Sound good?"

"Sounds excellent." Kris dragged the words out, his grin spreading even broader on his face. "Mind if I watch?" He gave Keith an equally appraising look. He really was hot. Maybe, inadvertently, Kris licked around his lips.

"Nah, I don't mind." Keith laughed outright, pulling the mic back in front of himself and picking up his guitar. "Let's do this thing," he said and started to strum again, going into the start of "Kiss A Girl," tapping the mic between them so that Kris could sing along if he wanted to.

Kris laughed and he tried to keep up, bumbling a lot of the lines and getting teased with gestures from Keith about it. He pointed back to tell Keith to sing the next lines, Kris trying to push the mic away. It was a little embarrassing since it had only been about a year and a half since he sang that song with Keith back on the Idol stage. "Sorry, man," he said, nose wrinkled and shaking his head. "I need to brush up on my Keith Urban lyrics, huh?"

"Damn straight you do," Keith teased back and still looking right at Kris, he started to play the main guitar line of "Live Like Your Dying." And right there, for his band and Kris and the various tech people (as well as the fans waiting close to the venue), he gave an impromptu, one-verse rendition of Kris's song. _So there_, his face said, smiling the whole time before he strummed the song to a stop. "We good?" He asked, turning around to look behind him. "Sounds good to me?"

He got a thumbs up from the sounddeck and he stood up, guitar swung behind his back before a tech appeared to take that and his mic. "See you soon, man," he told Kris and he _swaggered_ off, grinning.

Keith was a tease. Kris watched him go (like he'd let that opportunity to quietly oggle slip him by), shaking his head and finally moving once Keith was no longer within eye-shot.

Sound check went smoother this time with Kris's crew more familiar with Keith's set-up that things went with very little hitches. Before he knew it, Kris was walking toward the buses, one hand shoved in his pocket, his head down scanning his phone.

"Watch where you're going," he heard, then feet appeared in his view. When he looked up, Keith, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap was grinning at him, a corndog in each hand. "Not quite doughnut hamburgers or whatever that atrocity was, but these are good, eh?" He held one out to Kris then fell into step with him toward the bus. "You looked engrossed. Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Twitter is the devil," Kris laughed, reaching for the corn dog with a more than private smile aimed at Keith. "Thanks. I think I've had enough time to recover from that fried food fiasco." Pocketing his phone he used the corn dog to point at the buses. "I was comin' to see you." Then he grinned up at Keith before taking a big bite.

"I figured that." Keith shoved the cap back on his head and tapped in the code on the bus door, before pulling it open to let Kris in and following him, the door slamming shut behind them both. "I like the song, man. It's comin' together."

"Cool. Did you tweak it a bit? I wanna hear it." His eyes were alight with excitement, looking back over his shoulder at Keith while he walked toward the very back of the bus. Funny how Kris already knew his way around enough to know where to go and where to sit.

Keith tossed off his hat, shaking out his hair, sunglasses being thrown down next to the hat before he went to the small fridge. "Added a bit of keyboards and a basic drum line. I'll get it in a second. Here." And he handed Kris a bottle of water, finger running along one of Kris's. Another trip to get his iPod and he finally settled across from Kris, legs tangling. He took a few bites and a slug of water, just watching Kris, a smile in his eyes. "Good to see you," he said, again, quietly.

Kris stretched his much shorter legs out, slouching lazily on the couch, his corn dog now just a stick in his hand, his water half drunk and sweating around his fingers. "I've missed you, man." Looking straight at Keith before he slowly ducked his head to pick the label off the water bottle. "I'd been looking forward to spending these three days with you."

"Missed you too." Keith plucked the stick and the bottle from Kris's fingers and handed him the iPod instead, the song already cued up on it. "Bet we can get that fleshed out before we go, eh? Listen and tell me what you think." And as he watched, he rested his elbows on his knees and finished his meal.

Popping the earbuds in his ears, Kris kept flicking a look at Keith before he even pressed play. The music started with a pair of guitars, of course, and then Keith's voice, gruff, ragged, came through. Hearing that already made Kris smile. He slowly closed his eyes, his head bobbing slowly and then nodding, liking what he heard. "Sounds awesome," he said, meeting Keith's eyes.

"Getting there. It needs something," Keith said, eyes on Kris's face. "Needs a kick. Kinda play it again later and see if something gets you," he said. He finished his own water and tossed the bottle and the corndog stick before sitting again, leaning forward, hands clasped between his knees.

"You can start by maybe changing that to a girl," Kris shook his head as he scooted closer, ass to the edge of the seat, his eyes on Keith. "Think you're funny putting that little boy line in there, huh? I see what you did." One corner of Kris's lips began to lift in a crooked smile.

Keith laughed outright, and he reached for his guitar, the one leaning against the edge of the sofa. Settling it over his lap, he started strumming, a down and dirty rockabilly riff. "A little girl who lost her way back home ... A little girl who lost her way back.... " Grinning, he nodded. "I like that. Not like what I usually do, you know. They're gonna say Kris Allen had his influence on me."

Kris shook his head. "They're gonna say the other way around for me. People are gonna say, 'Keith had his hand all over this.'" He was nodding his head solemnly. "It's got a more country feel y'know?" He plucked the earbuds out and rolled it around the iPod, handing it back. "I like it. Sounds hot, you ask me." Another reason people wouldn't expect it to come partly from Kris - the song would definite have a more sexual undertone if people went there with it.

"If you take a ride with me," Keith sang, leaning in, a few inches from Kris's face, "I promise you some ecstacy ... " And he grinned himself. "If you ever take a ride with me .... " And he took a kiss, hot, wet and too short. "I wanna get my hands all over you," he said with a smile.

"That's exactly the ride you were thinkin' of when you wrote that line, huh?" Kris couldn't help the grin and the way he slowly licked around his lips to gather more of Keith's taste there. God. He'd missed those kisses. A lot. "Hmm ... You gonna shake my cherry tree?" He chuckled, gaze flicking from Keith's lips to his eyes.

"Depends on what you call your 'cherry tree.' That was your line, remember," Keith answered, pulling the guitar from over his head and setting it aside. "'I'll break you and your cherry tree.'" He pulled Kris closer with hands under his knees. "Take a ride with me, Kris Allen," he whispered, mouth to mouth.

He would have fallen off with that tug, but Kris was quick enough to lock his arms around Keith's shoulders, pushing off the seat instead and falling over the man's chest. "I'm here ... break it - me ..." Kris gasped the words out, smiling lips pressed to lips as he pushed a knee between Keith's legs and then urged him to his back gently, not wanting to break the kiss. "'m not gonna disappear ..."

"And if you turn around here ... nobody will hear ... " And outside the bus, nobody did hear. Inside, there was the rustle of clothes, laughter and whispered words.

When the buses took off that night, Kris was in Keith's and before they went to bed, they worked on the song some more, getting it closer to being ready to record. But after that, what they did didn't have anything to do with songwriting.

~~

Sept. 5, 2010 (Wallingford, CT)

There was a routine after that: sound checks, time spent until the requirements of the show, then the nights were theirs. At least two more nights. But when the show wrapped in Connecticut, it was the knowledge that the shared dates were done. In fact that was the wrap of both Kris and Keith's tour, and that meant a party for both bands in the backstage area, which meant that there wasn't any time to be alone until much later. Much, much later.

They both had rooms, Kris's somewhere else in this hotel, empty. He sat at the edge of the bed in Keith's room, naked now, pulling Keith to him with hands tight on his hips. His eyes flicked up, a little sad around the edges, but hope shining in their brown depths as well. This still wasn't the end.

"I want to ..." Kris started, curling his hand around Keith's length, stroking slowly, mouth watering already. Even if they didn't have much time, things were going slow. Very slow. Keith answered, "whatever you want."

It was like they wanted time to stand still and they worked to keep it that way, knowing how to touch each other by then, knowing how to counter impatience with a hand on a hip or a kiss. Keith said Kris's name when he came, before dropping his face to the crux of Kris's neck, hips still moving, working to pull Kris's orgasm right out of him, his hand tighter around his cock.

When Kris came it was with a silent cry, his lips parted, his sharp gasps the only sound heard, arching into Keith's hand as he spilled warm and thick and exquisite. And when they finally kissed it was slow and lazy and happy.

Even much later, when the sky had begun to lighten, dawn beginning to peak, they held each other, Kris following the pattern of Keith's tattoos idly as they shared quiet laughter and whispered words. It was the time Kris loved most; the easy companionship, the teasing, the way Keith simply understood.

There wasn't a point to sleeping, so they just didn't; it wasn't the first time for either of them to have a sleepless night. And since it was the last night of the tour it seemed fitting. Lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, hair mussed and hanging around his face, Keith looked down at Kris. "Have Lizzie contact Mel about a time to record, eh? I want that song on my record. A Kris Allen collaboration. Might even be a single. And a video." He smiled, clearly pleased with the idea.

Kris's nose wrinkled. "'m not gonna mess up your video by bein' in it." Experience told him that. "But I can cheer you from the sidelines." He laughed, lying on his back, an arm crossed under his head while he reached up, fingers brushing back the long hair from Keith's cheek. "I'll tell Lizzie, yeah. I'm probably gonna do a few more shows until the end of the month then it'll be back to writing for me, too." Which Kris was really, really anxious to get going. "We'll find the time." _Soon_, he wanted to promise, but didn't say. He didn't need to.

"If we do a single, you're in the video, Kris. That's the way it works, see. I'm not taking credit for a song we wrote together. Just saying." The matter settled, Keith leaned forward and kissed him again. "I'm going to miss you," he said. After all, what happened on the road didn't apply anymore if they weren't on the road; it was understood. So Keith kissed Kris again and that kiss led to another which led to touching and tasting and a chance for Keith to gasp out Kris's name.

Then it was time to go, time to pack the buses and head back to Nashville and Arkansas. "Congratulations, by the way," Keith said, at the door, dressed, his hair still damp, arm around Kris's waist. "On the Hall of Fame. That's great."

Kris rolled his eyes. "Man, I have _no idea_ why I'm even in there." He shrugged, tilting his face up a little higher, maybe even tipping very slightly on his toes. His hair was just still slightly damp, clothes the same he'd worn the night before, unused keycard clutched in his hand. "It's great, yeah," he smiled and put a hand behind Keith's neck to urge him down, Kris already licking around his lips before he covered the short distance for a kiss.

"I'll see you soon, Kris Allen," Keith promised. Then he pulled the door open and let Kris go, the smile never leaving his face, his eyes warm.

~~

_Six months in the future_

The sound had barely faded from the speakers before Keith was squeezing Kris's shoulder, arm around his neck in a hug. "Sounds good," he grinned, all white teeth. "Sounds damned good." The song they'd written together on the road, recorded in a night.

Both of his arms wrapped around Kris and the hug was tight and real that lasted maybe a two-count too long before they both pulled back. Keith squeezed Kris's shoulder and then let him go. "That's a keeper, then. C'mon. Let's listen to playback." And his hand in the middle of Kris's back, Keith urged him into sound booth as the music started around them.

There was that rockabilly riff again, sounding down and dirty. Then Keith's voice came in.

"You're gonna take a ride with me  
I'll shake you from your cherry tree  
If you'll ever take a ride with me  
I'll break you and your cherry tree

And if you turn around here  
I will disappear  
And if you turn around here  
Nobody will hear  
A little girl who lost her way back home."

The few more guitar chords, then it was Kris's turn, his voice sounding low and throaty over the speakers.

"If you take a ride with me  
I promise you some ecstacy  
If you ever take a ride with me  
Lovers love what love can be

And if you turn around here  
I will disappear  
And if you turn around here  
Nobody will hear  
A little girl who lost her way back home  
A little girl who lost her way back!"

Two guitars dueled then, both acoustic, stripped back from the keyboard they'd thought of using first, punctuated by impromptu calls from both of them. And the last verse had both Kris and Keith singing in tandem, just the slight fluctuations of their unique voices separating them.

"Oooo  
If you turn around here  
I will disappear  
And if you turn around here  
Nobody will hear  
A little girl who lost her way back home  
A little girl who lost her way back!"

It wasn't a long song and it was rough and fast and _dirty_. Keith was smiling when the track ended, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. "Love it. _Love_ it."

There was a slight flush to Kris's cheeks. The song would be completely out of character for him. Some might call it a maturity, others would call it a risk. To him? It was a _moment_. It was his glass house come to life.

He looked over at Keith, stepping closer, gravitating to the source, the inspiration. "I love it, too, man." He let the back of his hand barely brush against Keith's, his smile a mix of pride and warmth and affection. "It's awesome."

"Awesome," Keith agreed. It had already been decided for both their albums that the song would be a bonus track; it didn't really fit either of their 'images,' not that they cared, but it would definitely tweak some fans. Clearly, Keith wasn't bothered by this. He threw his arm around Kris's shoulders and squeezed. "I love it. _Love_ it!" He laughed happily.

It wasn't bound to be some hit or anything, they were both aware, but they both had fans who'd been vocal about the two of them singing together, recording a track - here it was. Not what they expected and Kris was a little giddy just thinking of what people would say. Adam would love it, he thought idly, with a grin.

"That's a wrap!" Grinning, Kris tipped his head up, reaching over to snake an arm around Keith's waist, both of them hugged to each other's sides. "We celebrate?"

"Absolutely." With a few words to the producer, Keith led Kris back into the studio to gather their guitars, then they could head out. The hotel a few blocks down had a restaurant and they could sit in the back, safe from prying eyes. Food and water (and sweet tea) was ordered then, just as they had in the bus, Keith slouched low, an ankle hooked around one of Kris's. "How's your record coming? You happy with it?"

"Yeah," Kris said with a grin that spoke more about it than the one word answer. "It's _my_ record." _His_. He singly wrote most and co-wrote a few of the songs, he'd made it more cohesive like he'd wanted to do for the first album, and it was sounding really, really great. "I'm takin' my time with it," something he'd learned from Keith during one of their post-coital talks, the ones that weren't punctuated by the teasing and laughing. Under the table, Kris jiggled Keith's foot with his, eyes sparkling. "I'll let you hear something, y'know, when I feel like it."

"Su-weet!" Keith crowed. "Would love to hear somethin'! And so glad to hear it going well. Nice feeling, isn't it?" When their waters arrived, he clinked his glass to Kris's. "Make it everything you want it to be, right? Make it the record _you_ want to hear. And that shows, too. Send it to me! I'll let you know what I think." He nodded faux-sagely before breaking into a grin.

"It's all good, man." But then Kris pulled back but the way he narrowed his eyes were playful, teasing. "I see what you're tryin' to do. Wanna make sure you get in the liner notes, huh?" Kris was smirking, legs under the table brushing against Keith's.

"Well, of course," Keith scoffed, then smiled again. "I want somethin' like 'For Keith Urban, who rocked my world.' At least." He plucked at his shirt, chuckling. "That and the royalties for the song of course. I just want you for your liner notes and cold hard cash, Allen."

It was Kris's turn to scoff. He put his arms crossed over the table and leaned forward, voice deep, whispered. "And I thought you just wanted in my pants." He laughed, eyes shining but growing darker. "'To Keith Urban, who rocked my world ...' I'm gonna make a note of that." Kris gave Keith an exaggerated wink, trying to stifle a laugh. Who knew? Who? That this was what would happen to him, to them, when Idol decided to pair them up during the finale. Just another thing Kris owed Idol ....

When they stood away from the lights that shone over the parking lot by their cars behind the studio later, Keith pulled Kris into a hug. "We did good," he said into Kris's ear, kissing there before letting him go. "And it was a true pleasure. We're gonna keep in touch, all right?"

"We're gonna, yeah." Kris looked up and gave Keith an easy smile, his eyes warm on him, evident even as they stood in the shadows. His touch, Kris could still feel, the soft kiss, the strong arm around him, the press of their chests as they embraced. And deep in Kris's chest there was a burst of warmth and affection as he filed this moment away deep in the recesses of his mind - kept in that delicate glass house he'd built with Keith. It wasn't as if Kris lived there all the time; he just liked to visit now and again.

From afar, hidden in shadows, two silhouettes came together in another tight hug, maybe even a kiss. The night was deep and the lights scattered enough that it was hard to tell. But Kris and Keith both knew.

~~

_Epilogue_:

When Keith's album came out, he sent a hard copy to Kris, with handwritten, scrawled instructions to look at the liner notes. There, Kris could find a dedication:

**To KRIS ALLEN, who has a heart as big as all the world and talent larger than that. You're not lost, little boy. Love ya, man.**

The liner to Keith's album was in Kris's journal right between the pages where he had written lyrics and chords to the song they both wrote. It was folded right at the page where the dedication was, safely tucked away in both the journal and in Kris's memory; Keith's words he could recall by rote.

Kris's album came out in the spring. Days before that he had sent Keith a copy, a short message stuck in a bright fluorescent green sticky note. _You know what to do :) _

**Because I promised I'd write exactly what he told me to: To KEITH URBAN, who rocked my world. (You owe me, man. Love you, too.) **

The first single was a song he wrote all on his own, the response, surprisingly (to Kris, at least), overwhelmingly positive. It was the song he had sent Keith, the one where they exchanged emails and phone calls, tweaking it until they were both satisfied, until it was perfect. The video had been shot and his second record was looking like it would be more successful than his first. He'd be headlining a summer tour this time, not supporting other acts. When the dates came out, Keith texted him with his congratulations and a promise to see him perform soon. Then there was this: _Bus isn't the same w/o you. Take care man, and see you soon. :) _ And Kris just smiled.  


**Author's Note:**

> The song they compose in this is actually Ryan Star's - see it [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YuxzTf4UVk).


End file.
